To Slay an Angel
by Agent47Rulz
Summary: 47 has never thought twice when slaying a victim. So why is it that his hand trembles now as he lowers the syringe to his former co-workers neck? Agent47/Diana Post Hitman Blood Money.


To Slay an Angel

The pitter patter of rain echoed off the road of a quiet suburban neighborhood in London. Faint moonlight permeated through the thick clouds every so often casting numerous shadows from the various normal sized structures. The sound of rain was soon overcast by faint footsteps which progressivly increased in step as a lone formally dressed figure stepped through the desolate street.

His chizeled face held a somber expression as he looked down at the ground as he walked, the droplets of liquid entrancing him as they fell into the little puddles that were forming. A brightness that was caused neither by the light of the moon or various lamposts brought him back to attention and he looked up to see a sedan coming up the road.

Stepping off onto the sidewalk he tried to appear as normal as a man could be who walked in a downpour wearing a suit and tie. As the sedan passed he keep his head forward but his eyes casually glanced at the driver of the small car, a middle aged woman who gave him no mind.

A stucco style two story house caught the man's attention, it's design different from all the other monotoned housing establishments that riddeled the block. Glancing over at the mailbox the word 'Burnwood' met his gaze in the faint light and he released a strong sigh before he began his descent up the small driveway.

As he came to the end he laid eyes upon a rather elegant looking lexaus. Tracing a gloved hand over the hood as he passed by he took a good look at his surroundings, luckily a thick row of hedges blocked the view of the house on his left while a tall white fence blocked the view on the right.

Glancing across the street he eyed every window and door on the small white house before he decided that nobody was home from the apparent lack of automobiles and lights. When he decided that he was out of sight of the entire neighborhood he reached into his suit and pulled out a an object that shined silver in the moonlight.

Looking at his silverballer, he gripped the handle tightly and flashbacks of every being that fell victim to the .45 ACP rounds that came from this stainless steel handgun passed through his mind. Using his free hand he reached into the opposite side of suit pocket and pulled out a long silencer.

Screwing it on he noticed that a brown folder had fallen out of the suit. Staring at it for a moment in silence he silently picked it up. It only had minor water damage from the rain and he slowly opened it up and stared at the familiar form of a contract killing.

It gave the location of the target, the name, and various other pieces of information that were considered neccesary for an efficent kill. Looking down at the Agency member who co-signed the contract, a foreign unfamiliar name looked back at him. Normally the name Diana would be in that spot, and 47 could admit now that he had found comfort in that name, and that voice who had so many times been his only source of human contact, even if he had only seen her once, and that was a mostly unpleasent experience.

The cause of his somber mood tonight wasn't because Diana's name wasn't under the Agency signature, but because that very same name was under the name of the target he was supposed to eliminate. The agency had felt that Diana had become a liability because of her defection to a rival group even if it had ultimately saved the Agency and Agent 47 himself. (Events of Hitman: Blood Money)

Shaking off these thoughts that would normally never cross his mind, he crept into a small rose bush located next to one of the few first story windows. Looking in he was slightly impressed at the decor of the house, with its hardwood floors and lavious pieces of furniture spread out just so.

A light flicked on caused 47 to recoil into the bush as a slender pair of legs descended down the elegant spiral staircase. Glancing in again after he was sure he was out of sight, he eyed his target and tried to decifer her movements to calculate where she was heading.

She wore a long pink nightgown, and had her hair down past her shoulders instead of up in it's usually 'executive' pulled back style. 47 would admit that she was a rather attractive woman, and was a little suprised when he read in the file that she was still single. At the casual pace she was giving as she turned a corner and went out of sight, she was probably heading towards her kitchen, maybe to grab a glass of water or a midnight snack.

Emerging from the rose bush with minimal noise the drenched agent crept around the back of the house just in time to see a light shine through a sliding glass door. As he began to pace towards it a growl suddenly caught his attention and he turned to see a doberman speeding towards him at top speed.

Agent 47 turned quickly and aimed the silverballer at the angry K9 when it was suddenly jerked back with a loud yelp. The assassin could make out through the faint moonlight a large chain leash leading all the way to a wooden doghouse.

The doberman decided to exchange it's futile mauling with loud barks and 47 wasn't sure if it was rain dripping off of it's mouth or saliva. 47 cursed the Agency at this point, they had never mentioned a dog in the file he was given and as he was about to put two into the dog's small cranium the sound of a door sliding caught his attention and 47 quickly ran to a pitch black corner of the house and knelt down as Diana emerged onto the damp grass.

She still wore the nightgown but was now dressed in a light jacket and pink slippers. Trotting over to the dog Diana knelt down and began to run a smooth hand over the dog's short fur, "Kujo what has gotten into you?-" Diana began and 47 couldn't help but feel soothed at the elegant British accent he was so accustomed to and was for long periods of time the only voice he heard.

"I've only had you for five days and your already waking up the neighbors." At least 47 knew now why the report said nothing about the dog. Diana tensed slightly as the doberman growled viciously at the dark side of the house that 47 was currently crouched near.

Diana slowly began to rise, never taking her eyes off of the spot where her dog was growling and mustering up her courage she began to move towards the darkness, the cold wind and rain making her involuntarily shiver. As she got to within five feet of 47 she reached her hand out and waved it around at the darkness.

47 could hear her breathing become labored as her hand waved around at the air directly above 47's bald cranium. After a few seconds of feeling only air her hand retracted and as she turned around 47 pulled his glove off subconsciously.

The agent didn't know what possessed him to do so but he reached his now ungloved hand and ran his hair through the tip of Diana's silky flowing hair. He mentally cursed himself as the woman stopped in her tracks and pulled his hand back as his target turned around and once again gazed into the darkness.

She stared for several seconds, her doberman growls faint in the rain. After a couple more seconds she turned around again and quickend her pace back to her dog.

After petting it a few more times, probably to sooth herself more then the dog, she made a motion to detach the leash from the doghouse. Thinking she was going to sick the dog on him, 47 aimed his silverballer directly at the pooch's head.

However instead of letting the leash go she tugged on it and began to pull the dog towards the glass door, "Come on, your sleeping with me tonight" Diana said to the dog who seemed displeased. Diana walked through the door and after one more menacing glare at 47's position the dog followed suit.

The agent let out a sigh, instead of taking out his target like he should have he instead became entranced by her and now had to break into the woman's house and kill her in her own bed.

The light disappeared from the kitchen and 47 rose from his spot and looked into a window to see his former co-worker press a few buttons on a keypad attached to the wall, "Hmn...a security system" the man muttered in a deep monotone voice that seemed more annoyed then anything else.

Pulling out a small flashlight, and the file he read it over and saw under miscellanious information that the security system was a standard doors and windows sensory system. It would only sound if the doors or windows were opened or if sensors located in the garage and living room were tripped.

Since 47 couldn't open the window, he would have to go through the window itself. Looking up to the second floor of the house he saw a light turn on for half a minute before it was off once again, and 47 saw on the blueprints attached to the file that that was where her bedroom was located.

He walked towards the glass door, hoping to all hell that he didn't step in any of her mutt's droppings. Tracing his hand over the glass he gave it a few taps with his knuckle to test how thick and durable it was. It seemed to only be about 3/4s of an inch thick.

He reached in his coat pocket again and after shifting through some tools felt the familiar cool touch of metal. Pulling out the small scalpel he put it to better use and dug the tip into the glass close to the handle of the door.

Tracing a rough circle deep into the glass he placed the tool back into his suit and then with a simple flick the small glass circle fell in and clattered onto the tiled kitchen floor with a suprsingly small amount of noise.

He reached his now regloved hand through the makeshift hole and popped the lock. After removing his expensive Italian shoes to minimize noise he quickly slide open the door and jetted over to the device on the wall and before it ever had the chance to give a single beep, 47 put in the 4 digit code given by the agency.

He couldn't help but grin at the code '4747', and wondered if the security company had put that as her default code or if she had manuelly put that in. After admiring the marble counters and tile floors of the spacious kitchen he walked over to the large refridgerator. Pulling it open he wasn't suprised to see mostly low fat products such as yogurt and vegetables. He did decifer that she did seem to have a weakness for ice cream with the various flavors from regular ones like chocolate, to exotic ones like cake batter.

He could have easily just poisoned the food and left, but he wanted to do this face to face, she deserved that much. He finally found what he was looking for and pulled out a small package that contained a raw T-bone steak. Tearing away the package he placed the piece of meat on the table and once again reached into his suit full of wonders. A syrnige was pulled out this time, the murky green fluid of the powerful tranquilizer bubbling slightly as he stuck the tip into the meat and pushed down.

With meat in hand he began to exit the kitchen before his eyes set upon a culinary knife set. The biggest knife, the butcher knife was missing, and most certainly in the poesession of the British woman. With a sigh he left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Gripping the railings tightly he tried to aleviate as much weight as he could to avoid creaking steps as he slowly ascended.

Coming to the top he glanced down the small hallway to the bedroom and was happy to see the door closed and probably locked. He wasn't happy about that but that the doberman was left unattended as it laid down in front of the wooden oak door.

A false step caused the floor to creak and the dog's ears perked up instantly and he slowly raised his head. Upon seeing the familiar form of 47 he quickly raised to his feet and growled, standing his ground in front of his master's door.

47 smirked darkly as he tossed the slab of meat on the ground. The dog caustiously approached the meat, but never left eye contact with the man. Sniffing it the doberman growled one more time at the agent before greedily attacking the meat. About 30 seconds later Agent 47 got the reaction he wanted as the dog began to wobble back and forth before falling to the ground in a deep unconciousness.

Overstepping the dog he glanced into each of the doors of the hallway first to make sure she wasn't aware of his presence. After making sure the bathroom, closest and guest bedroom were clear he crept over to the main bedroom door.

He was happy to see that Diana had a classic bedroom door with a keyhole instead of a poplock. Kneeling down he glanced through the keyhole and was irritated to see that the lights were on again and Diana was laying on her bed reading a book. She had a phone on her lap, obviously to call the police if the dog barked.

Gripping the doorknob his prediction was right as the knob wouldn't twist. He couldn't pick the lock with her awake and obvious alert, the last thing he needed was for her to lock herself in the bathroom connected to her bedroom and call the police, he would have to wait for her to fall asleep.

It was an hour later and the agent was still on his knees looking into the keyhole as Diana turned page after page of her novel, her reading glasses giving her a certain charm which 47 may observe as being 'cute'. This could be considered frustrating to anybody else but 47 was used to waiting hours or even days in one place in order to fufill a contract killing.

47 could fool himself all he wanted when he called his constant glances into the keyhole 'being cautious'. Really his eyes would always travel up and down her slender figure, the pink nightgown fitting her petite figure just so. Her bosom was just right, not flatchested but not too busty and if 47 would ever have a type of woman he was attracted to, Diana would definitaly be his type.

This time also gave him time to think of how he was going to do this. He could do this short and sweet, a shot to her sleeping head, but the thought of blood covering such a sweet face seemed unbearable to the supposid emotionless assassin. He could suffocate her with her pillow but then again the thought of his co-worker's muffled screams of fear and agony as she futily clawed at his hands made that idea also unbearable.

He tried to think of the most humane and dignified death possible and reached into his suit and pulled out yet another syringe. The only difference with this was that the liquid inside wasn't a murky green but a bright pink. Combination of cyanide and morphine, a quick painless, and bloodless way to die.

As he was eyeing the syringe with what some would call regret in his eyes, the light through the keyhole disapated and 47 looked through the keyhole to see Diana pull a quilt over her form and turn to the side.

He waited for several minutes before her breathing evened out and she slipped into sweet slumber. Pulling a lockpick from his pocket he picked at the tumblers in the lock with the upmost care, every time he made a sound he thought was little to loud he would stop and listen for a change in the breathing. When it was still peaceful he would start again. After a minute and a half the lock released, and he gripped the handle.

47 wasn't sure why his chest tightened as he began to open the door, he never felt this nervous with any of his other hits, even ones far behind enemy lines. Stepping into the darkness he was grateful for the soft moonlight coming from the window so he could still see the peaceful girl.

Walking up to the queen sized bed, Agent 47 couldn't help but lower the syringe as he gazed upon his target and former co-worker Diana Burnwood's sleeping face. Her smooth milky skin was radiant in the soft moonlight which would come and go as rainclouds passed by the moon.

Once again he couldn't help himself and brought his free hand up to his mouth and pulled the glove off with his teeth. Then he slowly reached down and brushed a strand piece of the silky hair behind her small ear. He suddenly realized what he was doing and pulled his hand back like he had just touched fire.

Shaking his head in a failed attempt to clear his mind he brought the syringe up and was shocked to see that his hand was shaking. He could do this, he kept telling himself. Just one prick and this angel could sleep forever.

He took a step forward as the syringe came closer to her smooth neck but failed to notice the chain leash of the doberman Diana had dicarded on the floor until his foot caught hold of it and a loud sound of rattling chains screeched through the room.

A pair of eyes shot open as 47 pulled away and backed up into the darkness of the pitch black side of the room. He watched through the faint moonlight as Diana sat up in her bed sharply and then reached under her pillow and pulled out the butcher knife missing from the kitchen.

"Whos there?!" she demanded into the dark and 47 had to admit that he respected the fact that she held no fear in those words. Holding the knife towards the dark Diana pulled the covers off of her and stood up, stumbling a bit as her right foot got tangled in the sheets.

47 stood motionless as the woman slowly moved towards him brandishing the sharp blade that shined through the faint light. When she was finally within distance 47's hand shot out and smacked the knife out of her startled hand. With a sharp yell Diana found herself forced back onto her bed and being strattled by a man shrouded in darkness.

Her breathing was short and paniced from both the situation and the weight of the man on top of her. Taking a gulp she glared daggers at the man hoping he could see it, "If you rape me you'll never get away with it" she said this time with a small hint of fear in her voice.

47 was a little suprised, rape her? 47 had never even contimplated touching another female let alone rape them. A sex drive was not one of the things clones like him were born with. "I'm not here to rape you" 47 stated and Diana knew the voice instantly, "...47" it was a statement, not a question.

It was at this time that she could make out a small metal syringe in his hand and her heart sunk, "So...the Agency wants me dead huh..." 47 didn't really know what to say, he never really had to apologize to a victim before he killed them, "I'm sorry Diana" was all he could say as the room became silent except for the constant sound of soft rain hitting roof shingles.

When the syringe never descended Diana eyed the agent, "...47...could you give me one last request" she asked and 47 noticed her voice began to crack as tears seemed to glisten in her perfect eyes. "Name it..." the agent muttered, this whole sympathy thing new to him.

"Kiss me" she whispered and the agent's heart began to beat progressivly faster as he stared down at this angel who asked him to kiss her. Her slender body felt soft with the hand he held her down with and her loose hair was flowing wildly from all sides from her place down on the bed.

Still holding the needle in his hands he bent his head down and Diana could finally see the face of the man she had wanted to kiss all the years they had worked together. As his head descended he raised his knees up just enough to release her arms which were soon wrapped around the agent's neck as the two engaged in a passionate kiss.

There tounges danced wildly as 47's hands ran through the dark locks of her hair while Diana's hands moved over the smooth surface of the agent's head, tracing the barcode tattoo with her fingers.

Diana moaned as one of 47's hands began to travel over the soft fabric of her pink nightgown while Diana's hands ran over the rough and damp surface of the man's suit coat. Just as her hands reached the agent's belt and began to unbuckle it she suddenly felt a sharp prick on her neck. Her eyes widened as a foreign liquid entered her bloodstream and she looked up into 47's eyes with fear before they glazed over and closed, her head turning to the side, motionless.

* * *

Ten minutes later a lone figure once again walked through the streets of the quiet suburban neighborhood, this time in the opposite direction. The lone figure, forever to be alone stopped at the end of the street, and stood in front of his vehicle, a small black cadillac compliments of the Agency.

Reaching into his coat he pulled out a syringe and stared at the pink liquid, the 'full' pink liquid. Looking at the distant house of Diana Burnwood one more time he crushed the syringe with his gloved hands and got into his car. Adjusting the rear view mirror he watched as the house became smaller as he pulled away, "We're even Diana" he muttered to himself and thanked the Gods above that he decided to take two traquilizers with him.

_Author's Notes: And there you have it. i'll be amazed if I get any reviews since this doesn't seem like a popular fanfiction topic but if you could please do review. Oh well lol maybe i'll get more hits when the new game comes out. _

_Anyway if you didn't get the ending, 47 spared Diana because she spared him in Hitman: Blood Money. He instead injected her with a spare tranquilizer needle and next day when she wakes up she leaves town and they never see each other again. I guess you can say its a happy and sad ending in one._


End file.
